


A Sea of Stars

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, Gen, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Labor Unions, Space bureaucracy, Walks On The Beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Strike me down in anger, and I’ll always be with you, just like your father.”Unfortunately, Kylo Ren didn’t realize his uncle was speaking quite so...literally.





	A Sea of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> In true fanfic form, this thing started life from me entertaining the idea of Kylo being secretly haunted by Luke's Force Ghost and instead wandered into a minor angsty meditation on Destiny and organized labor in which Luke gets to play the Embarrassing Sassy Relative That No One Else Can See. Also there's reylo in it, enjoy!

_It’s no Death Star, but I have to say, even blasted half to bits, this place isn’t bad. Something to be said for clean floors and regular meals, even with all the torture chambers and weapons dealings._

Kylo fixed his expression in a mask of appropriate sobriety, gaze somewhere in the middle distance as he tried to appear like he was listening to Hux’s report. _Go away_ , he thought. _You’re not real._

_Not real? Kid, not even your imagination could come up with an internal monologue this banal._

Kylo’s mouth drew tight, his teeth grinding. _Don’t call me that._

_Uncle’s privilege. Hey, do you get all the holo networks from here or do they get filtered through some kind of galactic empire censorship net?_

Kylo gripped the armrests of the remnants of Snoke’s throne. _The soldiers of the First Order have no need of meaningless distractions._

_Ah, no porn then._

Kylo nearly inhaled his tongue, only just managing to turn his choking fit into a single, controlled cough. Before him, Hux paused in his delivery.

“Are you well, Supreme Leader?” he said, tone thick with sarcasm.

“Yes, General,” said Kylo. “Continue.”

_What would a Jedi Master know of such degeneracy?_

_Kid, I didn’t start training as a Jedi until I was almost eighteen. You think I spent_ **_all_ ** _my adolescence chasing womp rats and counting sand grains?_

_We are not having this conversation._

_Really? Because it feels like we’re having this conversation. Maybe we should have had it years ago. I mean really, neither the Jedi nor the Sith had the greatest track record with absolute celibacy. I never said anything to the lot of you, but I probably should have at least normalized the idea of jerking off._

Kylo twitched, a wave of faint disgust rippling through his gut. _Revolting, I would never stoop to such perversity._

_See what I mean? You can’t even conceptualize the idea of self-love, let alone any sort of normal interaction with the opposite sex. Or the same sex. No, it’s all ‘let’s rule the Galaxy together’, not ‘you’re making me feel a lot of strange feelings and I’d like to explore this more’. Having been on the other side of the galactic rule proposal, I have to emphasize it’s not as compelling as you think it is._

Kylo squelched a brief surge of curiosity, his frown deepening. _What is that supposed to mean?_

Luke snorted. _Would you be flattered if I said you’re definitely his grandson?_

A flicker in his mind, an image, as he’s only seen on holo projections. Vader’s mask, clean and whole, a gloved hand outstretched.

**_Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy as father and son._ **

Kylo sucked in a sharp breath.

“Precisely so,” said Hux, sounding smug. “Now if I may turn to—”

_He asked you to join him._

_He did._

_Why didn’t you?_

_Keep in mind he_ **_preceded_ ** _this proposal by hacking my hand off._

_So instead you killed him._

Silence. Kylo dragged his attention back to Hux’s speech, somehow unable to feel victorious at having the last word.

 

* * *

 

After his master’s shenanigans with the woman—Rey, he reminded himself—in his chambers, Kylo hardly should have been surprised at his uncle. Perhaps disregard for privacy was a prerequisite for mastery which transcended the Dark and the Light.

 _I am not talking to you,_ he thought, shoving his face in the fresher’s spray.

_Why? You got someone else you need to talk to?_

_Go away._

_You planning on jerking off?_

**_Out._ **

_Isn’t this better than interrupting your Very Important Meetings with that guy that looks like a womprat’s rump?_

_General Hux’s unfortunate appearance has no bearing on his competence as a commander._

_Harsh._ His uncle’s amused tone belied his words. _Though you might not find him so amusing when he puts a blaster bolt in your back._

_I am aware of General Hux’s...ambitions. The man thinks so loudly I could hear him in total darkness._

_See? You say you’re not a Jedi and yet you assume that magic powers and a fancy laser sword will be enough to stop a sufficiently determined person from killing you the good old-fashioned way._

Kylo shoved his wet hair out of his eyes and shut off the fresher. _I have nothing to say to you._

 _Kid, you’ve had nothing_ **_but_ ** _things to say to me for years. And now you’ve got all the time in the galaxy to say them._

Kylo snatched his robe from his closet and yanked it on so hard the seams creaked.

 

* * *

 

The nights, or the sleeping period rather, were ironically much more lively.

_I think I made a mistake, keeping what happened to myself. I mean I made a lot of mistakes, but that one was a big one._

Kylo kept his eyes shut, his body held in corpselike rigidity as he tried to fall asleep, and did not answer.

_Leia knows, sort of, but it’s one thing to tell someone with words and another to describe what it was like being in your own father’s head._

Damnable curiosity pricked at him and he caved. _And what did happen?_

A long quiet and he thought the voice had gone away, but then his uncle spoke. _He died killing Sidious. To protect me._

Kylo stiffened. _You lie._

_What use does a dead man have for lies? I was his son, and I suppose that meant something to him, even as far given to the Dark as he was. I think you’d have learned a thing or two about protecting someone important._

An image flickered between them, brown hair, sharp eyes, a woman’s face. Something bitter unfolded in Kylo’s chest.

_The vision I saw was true. She will join me._

_Maybe._ His uncle’s voice was soft. _And maybe it was true from a certain perspective. I joined my father, at the end, because I still had hope that there was something of the man inside the monster._

Kylo bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. _And yet you convinced yourself that there was nothing but the monster inside the boy._

Echoing silence. Kylo swallowed, a choking mouthful of blood and spit and breathed, forcing air through his nose, rapid breaths, fighting for control.

 _Easy._ It was so simple to picture Luke kneeling by him, soothing him through a meditative trance. _Breathe, kid, slow your heart._

_Shut up._

_You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm. Relax, open your mind. There’s no battle going on, no enemies here._

_Just you._

_I’ve never truly been your enemy, Ben._

Kylo flinched.

_Bring your focus to the center of your forehead, like I taught you._

With effort, he controlled his breathing and felt his heart follow, the fluttering beat slowing.

_See, isn’t that better? You’re in uncharted waters, kid. You need to get a grip._

_What do you mean?_

Luke laughed softly. _There’s always Two, didn’t he tell you that? A Master, and an Apprentice. The Apprentice kills the Master when they’ve taken and trained an Apprentice of their own. But you’re all alone._

A sharp, ephemeral stab, somewhere in the region of his breastbone. Always alone, his father’s eyes, shuttering, disappointed, Luke’s, alight with fear and determination, Rey’s, the light going out in them.

Luke sighed. _She said I didn’t fail you, but I think somewhere along the way, I did. I forgot the most critical tenant for those of us with future-sight._

_And what is that?_

_Don’t act rashly, without thinking. Because nine times out of ten, you’re not seeing what you think you are. Or if you are, you acting rashly because you think it’s going to happen is what causes it to happen in the first place._

Kylo frowned. _That doesn’t make any sense._

_Doesn’t it? My father allied himself with a Sith Lord because he saw his wife dying. Turned out he was the one who ended up killing her._

He wanted to ignore his uncle, but speaking of his grandfather had always been a surefire way to hold his attention. _So you’re saying if you hadn’t tried to kill me we wouldn’t be where we are now? Logical._

_Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you were born a monster. Fated to be one. But so, if my first master was to be believed, was was my father._

_Kenobi._

_You did get a pretty raw deal, kid. Maybe a combined months worth of training, even from two of the most famous Jedi in the galaxy, doesn’t make for the best teacher._

_You were perfectly serviceable, for a Jedi._

_Cut the Sith Lord posturing, kid, we both know it’s a sham. You needed a different kind of teacher, not a diluted Jedi bogged down in trying to maintain tradition rather than teaching the student he got._

Kylo turned onto his side, facing the wall with determination. _It hardly matters._

 _Maybe,_ said Luke. _Maybe not._  


* * *

 

Four weeks into his period as the Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren learned something critical.

Ruling a galactic empire was a lot harder and more boring than it looked.

“Unimportant, unimportant, non-pressing,” muttered Hux as he flicked transmissions across the screen so quickly they blurred. “Intelligence reports, nothing, nothing, nothing…”

_You know, they gave me a lot of crap for going to the most unfindable place in the galaxy, but I didn’t have to check transmission logs constantly, so who’s laughing now?_

Kylo squeezed his folded hands together to keep from rolling his eyes. _Congratulations, another responsibility you managed to avoid._

“...monthly notification from the troopers indicating that they want to unionize, I’ll send Phasma down to—”

“Wait,” blurted Kylo. “What did you say?”

“I’ll send Phasma down to stomp on—”

“Before that,” he said, waving his hand impatiently.

“The troopers are trying to...unionize?” said Hux uncertainly.

Kylo paused for several long moments, letting the silence settle over the room. One of the fortunate byproducts of being known for unpredictable violence was nobody tended to get too impatient with you, for fear of being Force-choked to death.

“What…” he said at last. “Are their demands?”

Hux boggled at him. “Their _demands?_ Surely you can’t be—?”

“What are they?” said Kylo, cutting him off.

Hux’s eyes flicked to the transmission. “I...I don’t actually know,” he paused, just long enough to be obvious. “Supreme Leader.” He prodded at the screen. “It says they have a representative.”

Kylo hesitated. It felt, eerily, as if the entire room was holding its breath.

“Send them in,” he said at last.

“I…” Hux stared at him. “Right away, Supreme Leader.”

The Stormtrooper was short of stature but broad. They didn’t remove their helmet, as per protocol, but Kylo could sense them in the Force. Unassuming, unremarkable—not like the trooper on Jakku, a thought intruded—but determined, fixed on a goal, and resigned.

The trooper had come here expecting to die.

The realization threw him. This being wasn’t Force-sensitive, they’d come all this way on what they were certain was a doomed errand, but still they stood before him, helmet held at attention.

“General Hux informs me that you represent the troopers,” Kylo said. “You wish to organize. But he had no further information. Our troops must be kept in good shape. What are your complaints?”

The trooper hesitated, then said gruffly. “It isn’t the lodging, Supreme Leader it’s just the...the campaigns, you see.”

“What about them?”

“There’s a lot of...civilian casualties,” said the trooper. “It makes for...very low morale.”

“That is...logical,” said Kylo. “Go on.”

Slightly emboldened, the trooper continued. “It’s just, we’re given so little intelligence when we go in, you see? Just point and shoot, and you can’t have soldiers refusing to follow orders on the ground, but it’s taking a toll.” He paused, as if struggling with himself. “Suicide rates in the troops are up, second time this quarter. And meaning no disrespect…”

Kylo frowned. “Yes?”

“Collateral damage on campaigns tends to...radicalize more people,” the trooper said awkwardly.

“Create more Rebels, you mean,” said Kylo.

The trooper didn’t reply.

Kylo leaned back into the throne, considering.

“Tell the troops,” he said. “That there are to be no new campaigns planned until more intelligence concerning the Rebellion is obtained, and that their...concerns will be taken into account in the future.” He straightened up. “They may send future transmissions with any additional concerns with the assurance they will receive a response.”

Hux looked like he wanted to object, but Kylo shot him a quelling look and to his surprise, the man’s pinched mouth snapped shut.

“Er,” said the trooper, sounding dumbfounded. “Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo waved him out and turned back to Hux. “Continue.”

 

 

* * *

 

_Interesting decision._

Kylo shucked his robe and tossed it on the bed. _Don’t say it._

_Reading the heart, listening to the situation, empathizing with those weaker than yourself, opening the lines of negotiation, sounds like a pretty Jedi thing to do._

Kylo whirled and slammed the side of his fist into a wall. The Force warped and bent around him and the lights flickered. **_Quiet._ **

His uncle sighed. _You know, while I do think they had it wrong, all that talk of transcending emotion, I can’t deny that being somewhere where the hopes and fears and desires of everyone aren’t constantly buffeting you does help._

_And that means what exactly?_

_Rey,_ said his uncle and Force help him his ears pricked. _She said she was from Jakku. Rey from Nowhere indeed. She grew up a bit more like me, I think. Far from anywhere. I used to wander out into the desert at six, you know that? Sliding down the sand dunes and tracking little tunneling critters in the wastes. I never questioned how I could always find my way home, not until I learned about the Force._

_Charming, so I missed out on a desert upbringing and thus turned to the Dark side?_

_Don’t be cute. My father grew up on Tatooine as well. But it helps I think, the quiet, helps you reach out and touch that pulse of life. People think that the desert is dead, but it’s crawling with the Living Force. Cycles and seasons and death and rebirth. What do you feel on that spaceship, Ben? Cold, dead metal and the endless expanse of the Black? Crawling with beings packed one on top of each other, their terror and need and sorrow and anger grinding down on you until you bleed?_

Kylo whirled and made for the small fresher sink, flipping on the tap and splashing cold water across his face and neck, and did not answer.

_How long since you last breathed unrecycled air? Or felt the ocean spray on your skin?_

A visceral memory intruded, salt air, the damp mist of phantom rain on his face, Rey’s eyes, wide and furious, the Living Force a disorganized tangle around her. She’d shone so brightly in that moment, her emotions a rainbow of fierce, primary colors.

_You feel too deeply, Ben. Others feelings bleed into you, soak you. Just like him. Just like her. Just like your father. Just like me, once. I fell into the trap; I thought it a weakness, something that would make you a slave or a pawn. But there’s strength in it. You could feel it, couldn’t you? In the throne room._

He froze, heart pounding. The experience had been...singular, disorienting. He could read endless opponents in the Force, their position, intention, emotion. But he’d never had the opportunity to do so with a combat partner.

Kylo Ren did not have combat partners.

It had been strangely elating, the sensation of her at his back, bodily warmth and the crackle of Force energy rippling around her, sending readouts between them of movement and intent faster than thought, like instruments played in harmony without sight or sheet music. It felt like triumph.

It felt like destiny.

_I...it doesn’t matter._

_It always matters, kid._

 

* * *

 

Days, nights, transmissions, forms, and still no news of the Rebellion. The fleet passed into the Abrion sector. At the behest of a weak, scrambled transmission, they were headed for Scarif, a small, watery satellite on the far side of the system,

At Hux’s indication, the fleet dropped anchor and sent a scouting party of small shuttles. They made planetfall among the remains of what had been the Imperial security complex, setting down on the remnants of a landing strip.

The First Order had never attempted to rebuild upon the ruins of the imperial base—Snoke had dismissed it as too much work for too little reward—but Kylo knew of the location from his mother, from the stories about the daughter of an Imperial architect who’d given her life to see the plans for the Death Star battle station in the hands of the Rebellion.

_Something to be said for brave women standing up to the Empire, isn’t there?_

Kylo ignored his uncle and indicated to the troopers that he would venture into the complex alone. Much of the building’s outer structure had been blasted to pieces; warm, salt wind blew through the open webbing of girders and towering, precariously balanced sheets of partially melted metal. He didn’t need to see the decoy to sense its presence, a small, round one, bristling with sensors, barely any power left. It had been damaged at some point, part of its outer shell melted, exposing circuitry within.

It felt like his mother.

She must have launched the tiny thing away from their path of travel, given it coordinates.

It was a clever ploy. He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry.

He squatted and tapped the top of the beacon and a message flashed up. Not a holo, no sound, just a text display.

**_The doctors say three months at best. Don’t know if I’ll have the chance to say goodbye. Don’t bother trying to track the droid’s flight path, we’re long gone. May the Force be with you, Ben._ **

He rocked back on his heels, stared at it. His ears rang, a faint thrumming as the Force pulsed and bent around him. The beacon spluttered, tiny lights going dark.

He crouched there, forever, listening to the creak of metal and rush of wind. He reached out, held his hand over the remnants, and squeezed.

The beacon atomized, blasting to pieces. A sharp bit of metal bounced off his cheek, leaving a dot of blood.

The sun was plunging into the tropical sea when he walked out behind the ruins and out onto a long sandbar, boots sinking into white sand. The waves broke against it, sending stinging sprays of saltwater to sprinkle his face.

He reached the end of the sandbar, the delicate pick of land sinking disappearing into the water, and sat, allowing the waves to lap against his boots. The sun sank, the ocean went dark.

_I’m sorry, kid._

_I don’t want to have this conversation._

His uncle sighed. _Then we won’t have it. Stay here, it’s better for you here than on that cold monster of a ship._

He draped his arms over his knees, linking gloved fingers together. _Meaning what, exactly?_

_You can’t feel it?_

He nearly asked what his uncle meant, but then he stopped, let his mind go quiet, closed his eyes, and listened.

Not loud, but audible to his senses, the pulse of a planetary heartbeat, the steady rhythm of breath, of orbital motion, above him, around him. He stood, eyes still closed, sand sliding beneath his boots, and waded out into the water.

It slid up his legs, through his robes, lapping at his belly, warm and strangely calming. He stood waist-deep, letting his robes soak, heavy, weighing him down, and opened his eyes.

The water around him was alive with lights. Dancing phosphorescent beads swirling and rippling around his body, surging up in waves through the surf. The ocean sang with life, and there wasn’t only Light and Joy but Darkness and Peace. He let his hands sink into the water, watched luminescent trails streak off his fingers as he moved them, mesmerized.

_This is the Living Force._

_Balance is balance, Ben. We lost sight of that. The Force isn’t Good or Evil, or Light or Dark. It’s all of those, in one being, and all we can do is make the best choices we know how._

Slowly he turned, his robes swirling out, buoying the hundreds of tiny glowing creatures that swarmed and schooled around him. He stopped.

Rey was standing on the shore.

She looked frozen, halfway through the task of pulling a loose-woven tunic on over her head. He couldn’t see her surroundings, but he guessed she’d been in her quarters.

She didn’t speak, but her shoulders slumped. She looked away and smoothed down her clothes. He watched her, her hair undone, as though she hadn’t had time to put it right, her face softly lit from below.

“What is it you want?” she said at last.

“Can you see where I am?” he said, instead of answering.

She looked at him. “In the water, it would seem. I can’t see much else.”

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” he said. “Even those of us who are strong with the Force, we see so little, a mere tunnel in a vast ocean.”

She let out a derisive snort. “More like a pinhole, but your point stands.”

“I saw that you would stand by me,” he said, slowly. “And you saw that I would Turn, and maybe we were both right. Two different glimpses of the same destiny, seen from different points.”

She folded her arms across her chest, defensive. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe nothing,” he said. “Maybe everything. Maybe I’ve been hearing voices for the past month and it’s finally driven me mad.” He looked up at her. “Will you tell my mother…” He paused. “Will you tell her that I love her, and that I will find my path, even if it’s not the path she or my father or my uncle envisioned for me?”

Her eyes rounded, lips parting in shock.

“Will you do that?”

“I…” She swallowed, her voice tight. “Yes, I will.”

He nodded. “Can you see the water now?”

He heard her breath hitch. “Oh,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful. I didn’t know an ocean could look like that.”

Part of him wanted to ask to her join him, as he could reach out and pull her across the Force and across the galaxy, but it wasn’t the time, the future too precarious, too uncertain.

And he had work to do.

“Rey,” he said, and she looked at him, tearing her eyes from the glowing, slow moving vortex. “Thank you.”

She smiled, a strangely soft and uncertain expression. “You’re welcome, Ben.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, felt the tug of the ebbing tide against him, the rapid flow of life, stretching out across the archipelago, a sea of stars.

He heard a faint splash, like a stone skipping on water, and then a spot of warmth against his chest, a handprint, and a light, dry brush of lips over his own.

Again, when he opened his eyes, she was gone.

He stayed in the water until it began to leech the heat from his body, and waded ashore. He walked back towards the shuttle, his clothing soaked and heavy and his heart lighter than it had been in recent memory.

 

* * *

 

Parsecs distant, Rey sat on the hard edge of a starship berth, fingering the wet hem of her tunic. She pressed the damp cloth to her nose, smelled sand and salt water and the familiar scent of sun.

She smiled.


End file.
